


Hanedashi

by deepestbluest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Background Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestbluest/pseuds/deepestbluest
Summary: Hashirama shouldn't kiss Madara. He shouldn't even think about it.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	Hanedashi

**Author's Note:**

> Hanedashi: in bonsai, refers to one or two trunks in a multi-trunk tree sprouting out to the right or left ([x](http://bonsai.shikoku-np.co.jp/en/word/2009/02/post-15.html))
> 
> This is based on the idea that only your soulmate can kill you

The genjutsu dissolves as Madara dies.

“Stop hesitating,” Butsuma says. He's angry, and Hashirama swallows the urge to ask him what the point of this is. “Tōka, do it again.”

Hashirama's cousin hesitates.

They've been doing this for hours, ever since Butsuma found out about Hashirama’s soulmate and dragged him to the training grounds. His anger is almost physical, as heavy as it is pointless.

Hashirama didn't pick Madara any more than Butsuma chose Hashirama's mother.

That point, like every other logical argument, won't work, and Hashirama is too miserable to keep hitting his head on the unforgiving wall where his father’s kindness ought to be.

If Butsuma were kind, he'd at least care about Hashirama's cousin. Tōka is talented, but she doesn't have the stamina to keep an illusion for so long.

Butsuma’s anger only grows as Tōka doesn’t immediately agree. “Have you forgotten what you're doing?”

There's a clear threat in his voice. It makes Hashirama's skin crawl. Senjus aren't adept at genjutsu. Tōka, an aberration, is the same age as Itama; she’s still struggling with the idea that you can beat weakness out of your body.

She's struggling with the idea that she can beat it out of someone else’s, too.

“Father,” Tobirama says before Tōka can get in trouble for hesitating and Hashirama can get in trouble for arguing on her behalf, “our cousin doesn't have enough experience to be able to keep Hashirama convinced.”

Butsuma doesn't listen to Hashirama, but he will, at times, heed what Tobirama says.

“And?” he grunts.

Tobirama looks at their father squarely. “Let me do it.”

⁂

“Do you hate me, Tobirama?” Hashirama asks as they wash themselves off in the river. He's wondered for a while now. The little brother who used to shadow him has been absent for months; the boy who's just beyond an arm’s length away washing blood off his face doesn't have any interest in facing Hashirama.

Tobirama pauses. “You think I hate you?”

“Do you? My soulmate is an Uchiha.”

Brushing the water off his face, Tobirama looks over.

“No, brother. I don't hate you. We don't get any say in who our soulmates are, right?” He shrugs. “I'm just tired. You know genjutsu comes to Tōka more easily than me.”

Tobirama shakes his head, and drops of water fly from the edges of his hair.

Hashirama doesn't believe him.

“Let's go. Father will notice our absence.”

⁂

Hashirama shouldn't kiss Madara. He shouldn't even think about it.

But Madara meets him at the river sometimes, and the fights they pretend are real still leave them dirty and hurt. Hashirama had a black eye last time that still hadn't healed by the time his father caught him trekking back.

Hashirama kisses Madara first. That's the way it has to be, or Madara will leave with bruises and torn clothes and nothing to show for them.

Hashirama will be left behind.

So when he pins Madara to the ground, he leans down and kisses him.

“If we were monks, we could live like this,” he tells Madara’s chin. “You're supposed to stop indulging the flesh, but they don't really mind.”

“Like we'd be happy as monks,” Madara says. “And you finally started to grow out your hair.”

Hashirama’s hair reaches his chin now. It constantly gets in the way, but he doesn't want to tie it back.

Madara’s hair hangs past his shoulders. It's so thick that it fills Hashirama’s palm when he tries to hold it. Leaves and sticks cling to it sometimes when Madara walks away.

It's more convincing if Hashirama doesn't spend time cleaning the dirt off Madara’s skin and working the knots out of his hair. Even a little healing is forbidden, no matter how badly Madara limps. No matter that Hashirama is good enough now that he could just take away the worst of it.

It's past sunset now, and Madara is so pale, he looks like he's dying.

“Hey, Madara?”

“What?”

Madara frowns, but he cups Hashirama's cheek when Hashirama kisses him.

It's a nice kiss. Madara likes kissing; he relaxes into the ground and touches Hashirama softly. He runs his fingers through Hashirama’s hair and curls his fingers in the front of Hashirama’s kimono.

Their first kiss was before they became adults and blackened their teeth to prove it. They've kissed so many times since then that their faces don't bump together.

Hashirama won't ask what happens if one soulmate kills the other, but the question lives in his skin. Every time he and Madara meet and wrestle with each other at the edge of the cliff, on the surface of the deep river in the woods where Hashirama is strongest and Madara could set everything ablaze, he wants to ask what Madara would do if he killed Hashirama.

He wants to know if Madara’s father also has new people to love lined up.

Butsuma has decided that it's fine if Hashirama’s soulmate is another boy. So long as he remembers to marry and have children, there’s no reason to think anything of any of this.

But Hashirama’s soulmate is Uchiha Madara, and Hashirama isn't allowed to love him.

“Let's make peace,” Hashirama says into the safety of Madara’s neck. “We’ll become the heads of our clans eventually. We just have to keep pretending for a while.”

Madara doesn't answer, and when they part ways, there's dried blood on his palms.

⁂

Hashirama is nineteen and Madara has him trapped against the face of the cliff, his wrists held above his head with both of Madara’s hands.

It's a clear summer day, and there's no one around but them.

Madara kisses Hashirama's neck, but they're standing so far apart that Hashirama can only shift in place and hope Madara doesn't walk away like he didn't see anything.

Like he didn't hear anything.

Like he doesn't know Hashirama’s body is too hot and the only way to feel comfortable is for Madara to press up against him.

The best way to stop a fire is to build another one.

Voice catching, Hashirama says Madara’s name.

Madara looks up at him, expression closed off, and walks away without coming closer.

⁂

Tobirama slashes through Izuna’s armor, but he doesn't cut deep enough to kill.

It's deep enough to draw blood and knock Izuna to the ground, but Hashirama doesn't let Madara take his brother away until Izuna’s skin has knit itself back together.

Only then does Hashirama go off in search of his.

“I don't want him,” Tobirama says when Hashirama finds him. It wasn't difficult; his brother always goes to water.

“Tobirama,” Hashirama admonishes. He doesn't know where to begin to feel about this as Tobirama’s brother, but he knows what he needs to do as the head of their clan. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Why would I? What difference would it have made? I was always going to have to kill him.” Tobirama clenches his fists. “I was supposed to kill him. I was going to make it fast since it's not his fault, but I-”

He runs an unhappy hand through his hair.

Hashirama takes a step closer. “You should have told me.”

“You only would have tried to make us be friends. If Izuna had wanted me, he had plenty of opportunities to say so.” Tobirama folds his arms across his chest. “Some people don't want their soulmates, brother. You should have expected this.”

“I should have?” Hashirama asks. “Why?”

“When has anyone wanted me,” Tobirama says flatly. “There's someone else for Izuna. Once he kills me, he'll get them. Or if I kill him, I’ll be free. Either way, we’re both better off.”

He doesn't look upset, but Hashirama knows his little brother. Tobirama hides. When their mother died, he didn't look at their father for a week. He started avoiding Hashirama and their brothers.

When their brothers died, he pulled even further away.

He isn't uncaring. He's just scared.

Hashirama reaches for him.

Tobirama sidesteps him.

“I’m twenty-eight,” Tobirama tells him. “I don't need this.”

“You do.”

“I don't.”

“Tobirama.”

“I don't need it, and I don't want it.”

Hashirama shakes his head and reaches again.

Tobirama dodges him again. “You never listen. You always have to know better. You always know what someone actually needs. Even with Madara, you don't hear what he's saying.”

“I'm only trying to do what's best for you.”

“And how do you know what's best for me? You haven't looked my way since you met Madara.” Tobirama shakes his head. “Maybe you could have been right once, brother, but you're too late. I already know how to survive without love.”

Tobirama shoulders past him, anger radiating off him, and Hashirama is left alone with the weight of the knowledge that when he wasn't looking, his brother chose to forsake the thing Hashirama wanted most for him.

⁂

Of the four of them, Izuna is the smallest. He isn't as smart or fast as Tobirama, but no one is.

What Izuna does have is love. His devotion to Madara is impossible to miss; he never lets Tobirama lure him away from his brother, and he looks at Hashirama with hate.

Madara adores him. They lean on each other as their clan mirrors the Senjus in retreat.

“Nothing has changed,” Tobirama says tightly.

Hashirama watches Izuna glance over Madara’s shoulder. “I don't think he hates you. I know you don't hate him.”

Tobirama bristles; Hashirama can feel it.

Being the eldest is exhausting, and having a brother as stubborn as Tobirama doesn't make it any easier.

Hashirama pulls Tobirama around by his shoulders and stares at him until Tobirama meets his eyes.

“You don't have to love him. You don't have to want him. But I need you to listen to what's telling you not to kill him. For me, Tobirama. For our clan.” He gives Tobirama's shoulders a pointed squeeze. “You aren't immortal. I’m tired of burying brothers. Help me end this."

Tobirama squares his jaw, but doesn't look away as he nods.

“If that's what you want.”

Relieved, Hashirama hauls Tobirama in for a one-armed hug, ignoring Tobirama's spluttered objections.

⁂

Izuna comes back to the river with Madara. He's smaller than his brother, like Tobirama is smaller than Hashirama, and his jaw is clenched, brow furrowed.

Beside Hashirama, Tobirama is staring forward, arms folded across his chest.

Madara glances warily between Tobirama and the ground as he and his brother approach; Izuna does the same.

Tobirama’s proficiency in setting traps hasn't gone unnoticed.

“Don't look so unhappy,” Hashirama wheedles, nudging his brother. “You won't turn into an Uchiha just by spending time near some.”

“How would you know?” Tobirama grumbles.

“It's a mystery.”

The change in Tobirama's chakra is sharp, and both Uchihas freeze in place as Hashirama laughs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes, waving at them. “Not the time for jokes.”

Madara scowls at him. “It's almost sunset, Hashirama. Now isn't the time to be getting each other worked up.”

“Really? I always thought that nighttime was perfect for-”

Tobirama steps on Hashirama’s foot.

“Let's get this over with,” he says as Hashirama pulls his foot free. “Uchiha Izuna, I don't like you.”

Hashirama groans, but Izuna, who’s still standing next to Madara, only raises his eyebrows. “Good. I don't like you either, Senju Tobirama.”

“Good.”

Izuna and Tobirama lock eyes.

Hashirama glances over at Madara and slowly walks toward him.

When they're close enough not to disrupt their brothers, he asks, “That’s a good sign, right?”

Madara shakes his head. “I'm not sure.”

Hashirama can't tell either, but as Izuna and Tobirama eye each other, exchanging tentative attempts at finding something worth liking in each other, the warmth of Madara’s body against his own feels less like a taunt and more like a promise.

⁂

In a cave in the mountain where they've planned their village, Madara kisses him like the world is ending.

“They didn't kill each other,” he breathes. His breath is hot on Hashirama’s skin. “Your brother wants to kill mine, but he hasn't.”

Hashirama kisses him just as hard.

“And? They're soulmates.”

“That's no guarantee of anything.” Madara untucks Hashirama’s uniform shirt. “Your brother is angry, and not all soulmates are destined for love.”

Hashirama shoves Madara’s pants down and runs his hands up Madada’s hips. “You're angry, too, but you still want to make peace.”

“You and I aren't like Tobirama and Izuna, and you know that.”

Madara’s features settle into an expression that says he's going to keep arguing about their brothers instead of kissing Hashirama, so Hashirama kisses him. Of course it isn't going to be easy. Of course Tobirama is angry. Everyone is angry. Everyone is mourning their dead or adding to them.

That's all they do.

“Let's build that village,” Hashirama says, pushing Madara against the cave wall. “I'm tired of this.”

“Do you think I like having to fight you?”

“No, I think you like fighting me because it's fun." Hashirama sighs. "I’m tired of only being able to touch you when we’re hiding. I want to hold your hand in the sunshine.”

Madara shakes his head, but he doesn't tell Hashirama to want something else.

“I want to have a home with you,” Hashirama continues, gathering the hem of Madara’s shirt and holding it at Madara’s waist with one hand. “I want to sleep next to you. I want to watch you struggle to skip rocks even though you're nearly thirty.”

Madara gives Hashirama’s hair a sharp, unfriendly tug. “I can skip rocks!”

“Of course you can.”

Madara tugs Hashirama’s hair again, so Hashirama kisses him until Madara yanks on Hashirama’s shirt instead. He pulls hard enough to knock Hashirama off-balance, but knocking his head on the wall only makes Hashirama laugh.

The world is going to end, but it's a bad world. Hashirama and Madara are going to build a better one together.

They'll do things right. The village they make will be perfect, Hashirama decides as he drops to his knees.

Tobirama and Izuna, whatever kind of soulmates they wind up as, and everyone else will live happily, and bit by bit, a new, better world will come into being.

How could it be anything else when it's built on the sound of Madara saying Hashirama’s name?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, jessicamiriamdrew, for looking over this for me!
> 
> If you're interested in discussing whether Hashirama or Madara would be better at DDR, come weigh in on [tumblr](https://asotin.tumblr.com/)


End file.
